


Here With an Offering Of

by cm (mumblemutter)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Plot What Plot, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik wins a race. Charles collects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here With an Offering Of

It starts with their morning run. Erik had fallen into it when it became clear that Charles had nothing more to teach Hank, at least not out in the field, and somehow Charles' cheerful suggestion had seemed like a good idea, or at least one that he couldn't find a reason to say no to. Privately, Erik preferred solitude, and the freedom of setting his own pace, but like many things with Charles, it became easier with time.

"Come on," Charles says, even though Erik keeps insisting it isn't threatening to rain. "I'll race you back to the house."

Erik thinks he's joking at first, but Charles taps him on the shoulder and speeds up. "Winner gets a prize," he calls out over his shoulder before he disappears around the nearest bend. The man either has no sense of his own limitations or has something up his sleeve, Erik thinks, before he starts to sprint.

It turns out it's more likely the former, because Erik easily passes him less than a minute later. His training versus Charles' and does he really think - Erik slows to a stop when he realizes that he can't hear Charles' footsteps anymore, not even in the distance, and he lopes his way back to find Charles with his hands on his knees, panting heavily. "So what do I win, then," Erik grins. When Charles' only response is to gasp for breath, he continues, "Hold that thought. I'll be right back."

The tree's the most convenient spot, and when he's done he turns back to Charles, ready to claim his prize. But Charles is still bent in half, and his mouth is slightly open and his eyes are bright, strange and almost glassy. "What," Erik says.

"What," Charles repeats, before he snaps, and shakes himself before standing up. "Nothing," he says. "We have a race to finish, come along."

At night, afterwards, he contemplates telling Charles that he wants to collect what he's owed, but the man's been acting strange all day, so instead he finishes folding his clothes over the nearest chair and strolls over to kiss him. Charles thoughts are most open when he's being kissed, even more so than when he's being fucked, and Erik doesn't like mysteries and he doesn't like not knowing what's driven Charles to pass him slow, contemplative glances all day, and so he kisses him, harder still, until Charles moans and pulls him down heavily onto the bed.

He's not thinking much at this point, but to be fair, neither is Erik. But the thoughts surface eventually, muddled and jumbled and making precious little sense - running streams and rainwater falling onto their faces, and - "Dammit Charles." Erik flops over onto his back.

"What," Charles says, all breathless innocence. "Weren't we in the middle of something?"

"Yes, but now I need to - oh hell." He stumbles to his feet, and chalks Charles' expression of mild disappointment up to the interruption. He kisses Charles full on the lips as a promise, "I'll be back."

"Wait," Charles bursts out, then amends, quietly hesitant, "No, just go. I didn't mean to -" _You could always just do it here_.

Erik stops. "Did you just say."

"No, of course not -"

Charles gets that furrowed look on his face and Erik points at him and says, "Charles, don't you even dare," then sits back heavily on the bed. Mystery solved, at least, even if it is - unexpected. "So, that," he starts. "You're serious?" Charles turns a delicate shade of red. "Well, if you're going to be like that." Erik holds him before he can bolt, wraps tendrils of the silver-plated headboard around his arms.

"Oh, and that's perfectly normal," Charles says, but he seems content to give up instead of struggling against the restraints.

"I never said a word about normalcy or the lack of thereof, Charles," Erik tells him. "I'm merely trying to get a handle on this."

Charles sighs, and he really does enjoy being overly dramatic, doesn't he. "I heard that," Charles says, and has the nerve to sound wounded. "I could show you," he offers, hesitantly. "What I want, how it feels," and it's only because they've spent so much time establishing boundaries that Charles thinks to ask, and for that Erik is grateful.

"Maybe," he says, crawling over to where Charles is bound and settling loosely on his thighs, "we could start one step at a time." He starts stroking himself again, before realizing it's not the direction he needs to go in. Charles eyes are wide and he's hard again, and Erik can almost taste his anticipation, shadowed faintly by disbelief. "Are you surprised I would want to please you, Charles," he murmurs, knowing the answer beforehand. Charles is always surprised to have his needs considered.

"Don't -"

Erik puts his fingers on Charles' lips. _Don't say anything._

_You don't have to._

"But I want to." It's an honest answer, and it hits him then, just how much. Just to please this man. Erik kisses him, slow burn, stops before he gets too hard again. "Here we go," he says, and it's not easy, this letting go of all instincts that tell him otherwise, that there's a proper place for this, and it's not the pale expanse of Charles Xavier's chest. The first drops hit tentatively, a golden trickle of hesitance, uncertainty. Charles gasps, but his eyes remain open and he's staring at Erik in rapt fascination. Erik grinds out, "Dammit," and closes his eyes, releases -

Sunshine, and warmth, and a boy's laughter as he goes, come on, Charles. I can't hold it anymore, I'll just piss on the ground. Don't tell my mother. The wet heat of a drop splashing on his face, and his hand reaching up to rub it away but somehow curiosity driving his fingers to his mouth instead.

Erik opens his eyes, finally, and his fingers are glistening, wet in Charles' mouth. Charles moans desperately, and Erik realizes he's still got him trapped. It's a good look on him, Erik decides, but then Charles mutters dizzily, "I need to, need you to," and Erik doesn't have to do much, just his wet hand around Charles' cock and he's coming, calling out Erik's name.

It's intimate in a manner that Erik can't quite put into words, when Charles says, demands quietly in his way, "Let me go, Erik," and Erik complies unthinkingly; intimate in a way he doesn't quite understand when Charles uses his newly freed arms to push Erik onto his back. He swallows his half hard cock patiently until it's paying attention again, and Charles already claims to know everything about him, why not this -

_I just want to know how you taste. Everything, Erik._

\- and then Erik's not paying attention anymore to anything but Charles' mouth and Charles' tongue and, "Oh," Erik says, and shudders, and grips Charles' hair as he comes.

Afterwards, they shower together, and Erik mutters something about how the help would be scandalized if they didn't burn the sheets, and Charles looks delightful when he laughs like that, shampoo in his hair and his lips swollen and red. "Thank you," he says, his smile slipping slightly.

_You do realize I'm the one who won the race this morning. Technically, you still owe me._

Charles only shakes his head and kisses him once more.

**Author's Note:**

> For the **watersports** (wildcard) square.


End file.
